The Eucalyptan Rustle

The Eucalyptan Rustle

The sunset breeze brings in tales
From the far lands out west
The mountains that raise my horizon
And the sea far beyond

I sit here listening amidst the leaves
This sweet-pungent carpet, ever growing
As the tales rise in louder fervour
And ebb away after dark

The tales are distant, of the unknown
Not all complete, or rational
Like day-dreams of a distant cousin
And I'm the unsuspecting privy 

I listen, for it is better
It reminds me of books
These, the tales of the breeze
Tales, in the eucalyptan rustle

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© Parched For Rain